Rain Kisses
by MudMunchkin
Summary: Draco watches as Ginny dances in the rain, and experiences a sight he will never forget. Please RR!


Rain Kisses

It was a showery, late afternoon and most of the students at Hogwarts were in their cozy little dormitories, probably snuggling up and enjoying a warm fire under a soft blanket. But not Draco Malfoy. He sat at a hard, wooden desk in the cold Astronomy Tower finishing up some moon charts for Professor Sinistra. He held is eagle-feathered quill indignantly in his hand and tapped it roughly against his empty sheet of parchment.

He was still fuming about the argument he had indulged in a couple of hours ago with Professor Sinistra over the moon chart she had assigned a week ago. She had been scolding him loudly for failing to hand in his chart while he unsuccessfully tried to justify to assignment's absence with the fact that he had been distracted by the four quidditch practices that week. Yet she made it quite clear that she wouldn't stand for that.

So now he sat in her empty classroom, trying to finish the assignment. He had been sitting there for two hours and his parchment still held no source of knowledge as to why the moon's orbit provided any source of information to the wizarding world.

An idea suddenly formed in his mind and he quickly scribbled down his first sentences.

"The moon's orbit provides the wizarding world with necessary information, such as when a werewolf might turn," Draco muttered to himself as he wrote. "That way, we can alert all the thick Mudbloods who don't know how to properly defend themselves and…"

He growled and scratched out the little bit of information he had written, and threw his quill down in frustration. Draco didn't know why he had even signed up for the stupid class in the first place. It was a complete bore and he even had to restrain himself from dozing off at times. Who honestly cared what made the constellations a symbol to the early Greeks?

Draco tapped the oil lamp that stood next to his quill and stared at the little flames that licked the thick glass. Outside, the soft rain drummed softly against the window. He listened to it for a bit before standing up slowly and walking over to Professor Sinistra's desk.

He really couldn't stand the woman. She was a complete freak who was always staring out her window and into the night sky, a hobby Draco regarded as strange and not just a little useless. It was her fault he was stuck in this drafty room trying to finish an assignment he couldn't care less about. Fortunately, she had left about an hour earlier, so at least he didn't have to tolerate her presence as well as the mind numbingly boring assignment.

His eyes roamed over the desk, searching for something he could use to his advantage. The first thing e spotted was an open bottle of black ink. He stretched his hand forward and carelessly tipped it over, watching nonchalantly, as it spilled over the mahogany desk and all of the papers that were to be graded the following week. His lips formed a small, satisfied smirk and he turned away without any regret.

He rubbed his cold hands together and sauntered over to a wide window, intending to see if it was closed and to his chagrin, found it slightly open. Yet he hesitated to close it. Instead, he leaned against the border and let the misty air tickle his face, relaxing as the cool breeze eased the tension in his shoulders. As he tilted his head back and rested it against the wall, a flash of red caught his eye.

Draco opened the window a little wider and peered out to see what had caught his attention. It was the Weasley girl (was Ginny her name?) and she appeared to be dancing.

He stood there watching her as she danced to nature's music, unaware at how drenched in water she was. She would twirl and move her arms as if she were an angel in the heavens; as if there was a wondrous meaning to life.

Draco gazed at her, transfixed. How could anyone be so pure and full of life? How could she pirouette around like she hadn't a care in the world?

Her long, crimson hair twirled around her with every spin she took, yet she never bothered to brush it away. He was awed at her beauty, but then a small voice in the back of his mind reminded him who she was. Scowling, Draco tried to tear his eyes away from the splendor whose brother he had tormented for the past six years, only to find that he couldn't.

How could someone so precious belong to such a hag-ridden family as the Weasleys? They were trashy looking and had no class whatsoever. But not her. She was sensuous and she sparkled with wit and magnificence.

Although Draco despised the Weasley's, he sometimes admired them. They seemed so close to each other and stood together through the toughest of times. His own family was the complete opposite.

Feelings, and other such nonsense, were never discussed nor displayed in his household. And, since he was an only child, he was often quite lonely.

His world had been filled with so much hate and ignorance, he hardly ever shared a peaceful thought with himself. Soon, Voldemort would rise to power and gain control over the wizarding world, even if Potter tried his best to stop it.

Seeing the fiery redhead dancing in the rain was his first acknowledgement of serenity. Draco had never before seen anything as tranquil as she. Her movement and expressions were a symbol of grace and freedom.

He rested his chin on his hand and sighed. It was terribly miraculous at how so many awful things were happening and so many people were, but she stood out like a crest of hope. He knew that whenever the war began, she would stand strong and lead many people to endurance.

Draco momentarily closed his eyes and rested his head against the wall. He found himself wishing he were with her, holding her hands and dancing to the rhythm of the mixture of rain and wind. He wished he could become one with her and not have a heavy weight on his shoulders for the rest of his life. He wished to at least touch the rain; the ambiance might just relieve him.

Opening his eyes, he reached out to touch the light drizzle, but when he looked down, he noticed that the youngest Wealsey was nowhere to be seen. He scowled and leaned out a bit more only to notice that the shower was slowing down and he could see a small light peeping through the clouds.

Drat, he thought and tore his eyes away from the window. When he put his hand to his face, he felt wetness, but it wasn't from the rain. He gaped as he realized that he had been crying. He, Draco Malfoy never cried, and if he did, it took something really extreme to push him so far. He sighed and took one more glance out the window, imagining the red-haired beauty dancing out there in the pale rain.

Desperately trying to finish his work, Draco spent the next few hours carelessly completing his chart. He left that room not knowing that for years to come he'd look out his window numerous times, eager to see the red-headed angel, but she'd never be there. And although he knew he'd see her plenty of times in the future, he was not sure if he'd ever see the rain kiss Ginny Weasley again.


End file.
